


202 - Van's a Regular at Your Cafe

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 20:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17392778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “one where the girl works in a cafe and Van comes in and she’s like woahhhhh he’s cute and then he starts coming in like every day while he’s off tour and she starts knowing his regular order and like they have small talk and stuff? So like it gets to the point where she’s like oh how’s Larry?? And stuff but she’s never met him and she knows lots about Van’s life despite not really being an active part of it? Then one day van properly asks her to hang out?”





	202 - Van's a Regular at Your Cafe

The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans was surely the best thing about working in the cafe. You liked writing on the blackboard out front too; hours were spent online searching for the best and most relevant puns. Also good were your coworkers, the free cookies, and the doggos that you'd bring bowls of water to as they waited outside for their owners to return. The longer you worked at the cafe though, your absolute favourite thing about the job became the regular customers.

It was nice to be able to brighten days with chocolate sprinkles and extra stamps on loyalty cards. People loved you and you loved them back. You cut crusts off sandwiches for children and didn't even get passive aggressive when the floor was littered with cake crumb and bits of unwanted lettuce. A smile was always on your face, regardless of your actual mood, and you were scarily good at guessing what type of pastries people would like best. A patisserie sixth sense.

In short, life at the cafe was peachy keen and you were pretty sure it couldn't get any better. Then, it did. 

You hadn't served Van the first few times he came into the cafe. Watching from where you were restocking the drinks fridge, actually moving those closer to the expiration date to the front, you listened as Van ordered coffee for multiple people and almost tripped over on his way out. The second time he came in, a few days later, he was with a friend and they sat down to eat. You made their toasties, but Ella delivered them to the table. Spying creepily from behind the cake display, you watched them eat up the food quickly. Before he left, Van tapped on the counter and told Ella to tell whoever made the toasties that the ratio of cheese to tomato and ham was excellent. 

Third time's a charm, and Van walked in on a rainy day only a few minutes before you were about to lock the door. Ella was clearing the tables and stacking chairs. 

"Am I too late for a tea?" he asked, leaning against the counter like it was his second home. 

"Take away okay?" you asked him, a little excited to be the one talking to him. He nodded and grinned. 

"Thanks heaps. Don't need sugar or milk or anything. Just want to keep my hands warm on the walk back," he explained. You put a tea bag in a take away cup (technically two, so it would not leak through) and filled it with boiling water, added a dash of cold water, then handed it over. Easy. He moved to get his wallet out. 

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's just water," you said with a shrug. Van looked at you like you'd offered to buy him a new car. 

"You sure? Don't want to get you in trouble or anything?" 

You laughed and looked over at Ella. "Hey, El, think I'll get fired for this?" you asked her. Van looked over, grinning. 

"Oh, yeah, definitely. Dude, if you take the tea you pretty much have to adopt her too. She's not gonna be able to pay rent, you know?" she answered sarcastically. 

"Alright, alright. I was just checkin'. No need to get all sassy. I'll catch you guys later, yeah?" Van said as he walked to the door, pushing it open with his butt. 

"Yep. See ya," you called, and Ella waved him off. 

When the door was closed and you'd watched him disappear down the street, you started to count the till. Ella came to stand in front of you, unmoving. 

"What?" you asked, not looking up. 

"He's here a lot now," 

"Third time," 

"But you're not counting or anything... He's cute. Real sweet too," she continued. Ella walked to the window and stuck her nose to it, looking to see where he was going. "I wonder if he moved in around here, or works here or something. Wonder what he does," 

"Ask him," 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Do your own crush stalkin', Y/N. I'm gonna take the trash out." 

... 

Van kept coming in and small piece of information by small piece of information, you learnt about him. He was in a band and they were recording their third album close by. You should've guessed by his late starts to the day and patched denim jacket that he did something cool like that. 

One day, as you made coffees for his whole band, he stood by the coffee machine and explained his name. Ella had refused to believe him. 

"Nah. That's a stupid rock star stage name, yeah?" she said when he introduced himself for the first time. He laughed, shaking his head. 

"Don't I have to be a proper rock star to get a stage name?" he countered. 

"I guess... So, it really says Van on your birth certificate?"

He launched into his test tube baby, musical father, beautiful mother life story. As his hands waved around and his cheeks went a pink with enthusiasm, you felt the velvet tickle of butterfly wings against the walls of your tummy. When he was done, he asked the same question. 

"What's ya names?" 

"I'm Ella. That's Y/N. No stage names," she answered for both of you. Van looked over at you and you smiled. It was close to the end of the day, so you packed up the rest of the cookies into a bag and put it between the coffees. Before Van could ask if you'd go to jail for it, you made up a lie about having to throw them out anyway. Ella watched, holding back a smirk. 

"Thank you, love," he said and emptied all his cash into the tip jar. It was excessive, but he skipped out the door before you could do much about it. 

... 

For weeks it continued on like that. Van would come, sometimes alone, sometimes with one of the others, and eat and drink and hang around you and Ella. He'd clear his own table, and bring empty cups and plates from others on his way through. 

One afternoon he sat at the bar near the front window after you'd locked up. You were all in deep conversation about something stupid, and it had clearly not occurred to any of you that Van needed to go when the cafe was closed. Ella mopped around him as you counted coins and wrapped cakes. 

Larry knocked on the window from the outside, beckoning for Van. You walked around and unlocked the door. 

"Hey, Larry," 

"Y/N. Ella. How yas going?" 

"Good. Coming to collect your stray puppy?" you asked him. Larry laughed and nodded. Van walked over. 

"I take offence to that. I'm a fully grown stray dog, thank you very much," he said. 

"Right. My mistake. Think it's all those cookies and extra chocolaty foam on your coffees that threw me, see," you replied. He smiled and pulled you into a hug. 

"So mean to me, Y/N. Don't know why I even come here all the time." 

Van kissed your forehead, waved goodbye to Ella, and left with Larry. You took a few seconds to let the feeling of his closeness linger across your body, then returned to the cakes. 

"Are you, like... dying?" Ella whispered. You nodded and made a small squeaking sound. 

...

You were sitting on milk crates out the back of the cafe. The sun had appeared from behind clouds and a well-timed lunch break meant you could soak it up. The back door opened; you assumed it was just someone bringing out a bag of coffee grinds or crushed boxes. Not worth opening your eyes for and ruining your little sunshine moment. 

"You look like one of them funny little meerkat things, when they sit all still in the sun," Van's voice called out. He walked through the employee-only door and came to sit next to you. "Ella said you was out here," 

"Did she? What can I do for you today, Van?" 

"Nothing. Just saying hi. She says it's dead in there, so she's gonna make me something special," 

"Ugh, that was a mistake, lettin' her do that. She saw those unicorn drinks from Starbucks on the internet and now she wants to make like, stupidly ridiculous drinks. I don't think it's your thing at all. I'll make you a flat white when I go back in," you replied. He chuckled a little and nodded. 

"Thanks, Y/N. Finished your exams now, yeah? How'd they go?" 

"Well, I mean... I physically survived them. At least passed," 

"Nah, sure you did good. See you counting up the till every day, so you must be smart," he replied, knocking his shoulders against yours. 

"Not sure basic addition is a useful skill in my degree, but you know, thanks anyway... How 'bout you? Album almost done?" 

He nodded and thought for a second. "Yeah. I reckon it is. It was written well before we started to record. Just fine tunin', you know what I mean? Getting input from other people and stuff. We were thinkin' about getting a second opinion, actually."

Van's hair shined with ten different shades of brown in the early afternoon light. His fingers tapped against his thighs in need of tobacco or caffeine. You'd watched him inhale cigarettes almost whole out the front of the cafe multiple times, but the butts always went into the bin and he'd always stand further away if there was a dog watching. Van would pat any and all dogs outside too; he'd sit on his knees and talk to the puppies like old friends. 

"Second opinion?" you asked. 

Ella came bursting through the back door holding two milkshake glasses. One held a purple liquid and the other a brown. Both were covered with whipped cream and chocolate flakes and sprinkles. Both looked revolting. She was smiling wide. 

"I did it! For you, Sir, is the best iced coffee you'll ever have. And for the Madam... I don't know what it is but it's good," she said, handing the drinks over. 

"Please don't call me that again," you replied, stirring the drink with apprehension. 

"Thank you, El. Looks amazin'," 

"He's just being nice," you added. Ella stuck her tongue out and went back inside. You looked at Van. "You first."

He sucked his through the straw, then used it as a spoon for the cream. You watched for a reaction. 

"I'm sorry to tell ya, but you were dead wrong. This is good," he informed you with a smile, continuing to drink. You tried yours. It tasted like... like if glittery unicorn aesthetic had a smell and then that smell was turned into a flavour. It was sickly sweet and unnatural. You wanted to hate it, but couldn't. Van watched you carefully. "Yours is good too! Gotta have more faith in ya friends, Y/N!" 

"Eh. What can I say? I'm sceptical by nature," 

"Yeah... That's good actually, 'cause the whole second opinion 'bout our album… Was hoping maybe you'd come listen to it? We're gonna have some pizza and drinks tomorrow night and kind of wind down from it all. You and El can come and hang out and stuff, if you want? Yous basically kept us fed and caffeinated the whole time, so we owe you,"

"You don't owe us anything, but yes. Totally. Pizza party sounds amazing. We both finish at 6 tomorrow," 

"Perfect. I'll send you the address and you can come straight after. Here, give us your phone," Van said with his hand out. He typed in his number into your phone and called his, then messaged you the address. You wondered why he'd not just written into a note, but his number was saved in your contacts and that was a good thing not to be argued with. "Cool. I'll let you enjoy ya sun then. See you tomorrow, Y/N,"

"Yep. Tomorrow." 

He walked inside with his empty milkshake glass. As he did, the clouds moved over the light and you shivered in the shade. 

... 

When the trash was out, the milk restocked, and the till counted, you and Ella stood in front of the employee bathroom mirror fixing your makeup. 

"I've decided I'm gonna try to make out with one of them," she said. You laughed and looked at her. 

"One of them?" you echoed. 

"Yeah. Not fussed. Obviously not Van though... Bondy doesn't have a girlfriend, does he?" 

"I don't know," you replied thoughtlessly, getting distracted by making sure your skin was dewy and your eyes bright. Ella said something else, and maybe something after that too, but you were in your own little world. You tuned back in when you heard Van's name. 

"If you don't want me to fuck Van, say so right now," 

"Huh?"

"Oh my gosh, Y/N. You never fuckin' listen to me… Come on. You look fine. I look fine. Let's go." 

... 

The recording studio was built in the huge basement of an even bigger old house. "Blake and Larry say it's haunted," Van told you as he led the way to where the party was. The guys were all there, along with girlfriends, producers, and close friends turned managers. Ella confidently bounded off in Bondy's direction and you watched as he poured her a drink immediately. 

"He fancies her," Van whispered in your ear. You looked at him and smiled. 

"Yeah? Think it's his lucky night then," you replied. 

Time moved quickly, filled with drinks and four cheese pizza, and the band's ridiculous banter. They were good people, and the people they knew were good too. You spent an hour with Benji's girlfriend looking at her blog together, talking about hair care and beauty products. She swatched the five different lipsticks in her bag on your arm and gave you your favourite one. 

"No! I can't!" you said, trying to hand it back. She playfully ducked from your hands. 

"Yeah, you can. That colour never looked right on me anyway. Take it." 

You gave up and accepted the gift. She beamed, then nodded in Van's direction as he approached. 

"Dani, mind if I steal this one for a minute?" 

"Go for it. I'm gonna go catch the other new one and make her read my blog too."

Van laughed. "Good luck. El and John went M.I.A. ages ago," he said. Dani pouted and nodded and went off to find Benji. Van motioned for you to follow him, and you left the outside party and ghosted him through the house.

Down the stairs and into the studio, he pulled out a chair and handed headphones over.

"I really do want your opinion," he said leaning across you to press buttons and turn dials. You put the headphones on and watched Van go stretch out on a couch.

An album person by nature, you'd always make time to spread out across your bed and listen to the music in its entirety. The way a record was constructed said a lot about a band, about how the narrative of their music was meant to play out. Of course, you had gone home and listened to Catfish's first two albums. Van was a hell of a lot more famous than you and Ella gave him credit for. Some of their songs were actually familiar to you. By the time you figured all that out though, you'd already made friends and didn't feel starstruck by him. He spent too much time with cappuccino chocolate in the corner of his mouth to be more than a regular customer you had a crush on.

As you listened to his record, Van watched you carefully. Cheeks burning and heart racing from that alone, your body probably interpreted its biology as love for the music too. The album would forever be all tied up with your feelings for Van, and it would therefore always be your favourite sound.

When the eleventh track finished in another abrupt ending, you took the headphones off.

"Whaddaya think?"

"You guys are amazing. Just keep getting better. I super appreciate that the sixth track is slower and that there are eleven all up. Consistent," you replied. Van grinned.

"So you've heard the first two then?"

"Yeah. This one is more like The Ride than The Balcony, but like… it doesn't stray too far from it all. It's good. It's natural growth, or whatever,"

"Which song is your favourite?" he asked, standing and coming over to you. He pulled a chair over, sat, and took the headphones from you. You thought for a second.

"Last one. Weirdly, always it. Tyrants and Outside are my favourites from the other two," you confirmed, nodding. A small smile formed on Van's lips.

"That's very interesting,"

"Why?”

"Last one wasn't written before we started recording, like all the others. Only really wrote it a couple weeks ago," he said and you could tell by his voice that he wanted you to care, to ask about the last minute inspiration.

"Did a ghost whisper lyrics to you in your sleep or something?" you asked, smirking. "Didn't that happen to Thom Yorke?"

Van laughed. "Don't believe in ghosts. No. The other two albums I totally ripped off other bands and people. Not this one. All me,"

"But I saw Noel Gallagher talking about you! He didn't seem to mind that you stole his stuff," you replied. Van laughed again. The disbelief that Noel Gallagher knew of his existence was evident on his face.

"Don't even get me started about that. Anyway. The last track… I, um…" Suddenly he looked nervous, and you rocked the chair side to side while you waited for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. When his hands stopped moving and he seemed stuck in thought, you picked up the headphones.

"Play it again?"

You started to listen. Van crossed the room to pick up a book. He brought it over and handed it to you open to a page of handwritten scribbles. The lyrics to the song. You read as you listened and the story of the song became a little bit clearer. A little bit more familiar. A little bit more… you. The song finished, and when you didn't take the headphones off, Van rolled his chair closer and gently took them off your head. He stayed close.

"I gotta name it…" He took the journal out of your lap and tapped at the page with a pencil. "Consistency, like you said, yeah? So… The Balcony's got Kathleen. The Ride has Emily…" You watched him write your name at the top of the page, then underline it twice. He handed the book back and you held it in your hands like it was more than a book. Scripture. "Yeah?" he asked.

Slowly, you looked up at him and equally slowly nodded. He smiled, then leant in and gently kissed your lips. Small. Quick. He stood up and held a hand out for you. You took it, leaving the journal on the chair and leaving the sacred space of the studio behind.

Halfway up the stairs, Van stopped and you crashed into his back. He turned around quickly and apologised.

"Sorry! I just… You get it, right?"

"Get what?"

"That… I like you?" The song written about you with your name as the title and the kiss were pretty strong indicators of that fact, but Van was thorough and wanted confirmation. You laughed a little and nodded. "Yeah? And, you like me too?" Cookies and coffee and tea and smiles and daydreams. You laughed again and nodded again. "Okay. Good." He stepped back down so he was on your step, then smirked. Your head tilted to the side just a little. The second kiss was just as gentle but lasted longer. More intense, and in the almost-darkness of the stairwell, it felt a little more sleazy. As he pulled away from you, he kissed your cheek.

Walking back through the house on your way to the party, you passed Ella and Bondy on the couch.

"Review, Y/N?" he asked.

"It's really good! I think people are gonna love it. Seriously," you replied.

"Not the album. I know that's fuckin' amazing. I meant whatever Van did to you down there," he said, grinning at his own sordid humour. Ella giggled. You shook your head at them and pushed Van along. "Way to go, buddy!" Bondy called as you left the room.

For the rest of the night, you sat in a hammock strung between trees with Van. You watched him watch his friends and listened to him dream out loud about how he wanted the third album to be received. As he spoke about tours, he'd throw in mentions of how that would work. 

"How do you feel about bunks, 'cause you can come with us if you want? Or just visit when we get proper hotels." 

Van was the type of person to tell stories regardless of if you'd heard them before. He told you about his family and his dog and literally every other detail. As you both drank more, his words became slower and slurred and eventually gave way to a comfortable silence in which you just looked at each other with stupid grins on your faces. You played with each other's hands and passed out cuddled up a little past midnight. Ella came and woke you when everyone retired to home or their rooms in the haunted house. She disappeared into Bondy's room, and Van piggybacked you to his.

Under a grand window that looked out across the town, Van pointed out where the café was. "Sometimes I sit here and wonder if you're there and what you're doing," he whispered as he got under the blankets and made little baby grabby hands at you. You smiled and crawled in with him.


End file.
